Some how, I drive them away

Somehow I’m un-comprehensible, un accessible human being

I’m not eager to know what’s written in the next pages, because they’re all look the same

In my book of life and love, nothing ever changes

Lost and homesick! But I can’t still find my home, is it even there?

Or am I a homeless soul?

Never felt warm in my life, the warmth of home and security, the warmth of unshakable existence

Sometimes I feel I’m not there, sometimes I wonder if I really exist

Life and death? No difference, if I don’t exist, how am I to tell if I’m alive or dead?

I’m trying to swallow the metallic taste of days, the taste of something cruel, cold and one sized

Dreams are like bubbles that float happily in the air, in a naïve sense of what’s ahead, and they absorb themselves quietly, no resistance, no fight, no war

No, I’m a no war person! Peaceful me! How good is that!

I used to describe me as “wise “, funny as it seems, I believed I am

But how come that wisdom ever spring from a troubled mind?, how it could ever settle in a feverish sick heart?

How come that any wise being call itself wise? Isn’t it unwise to think you’re wise?

See? Here speaks the troubled “wise “mind

I no longer wish to solve the unsolvable, no longer wish to save the world

I only wish to solve me, to see me in the undistorted image of reality, with real colors and density, no customs and no masks

I only wish to begin as fresh as a bud , a bud willing to grow and survive , unconsumed by mysteries and will not take the darkness as an option , will not let herself grow faintly in the shade

But wildly and gaily in the sunlight

14/5/2010

Noura S